


Guy’s A Fangirl

by Unicoranglais



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Fluff, M/M, No Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unicoranglais/pseuds/Unicoranglais
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leon Kuwata has a curious feeling that he’s being watched. Kazuichi Souda, for the record, doesn’t know a thing about it. And Makoto Naegi wishes that Souda would just ask Kuwata how he’s grabbing all the girls already. </p><p>(Pre-DR1 Bubblegum Rock/SoudaLeon/whatever this fandom calls that ship, with an added Roommate!Naegi for the fun. No kissing, just light fluff - and no spoilers at all for either game, unless names count?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guy’s A Fangirl

_Leon Kuwata has a curious feeling that he’s being watched._

It’s a strange feeling, and one he’s been feeling for perhaps three weeks now – a slight prickling on the back of his neck when he’s walking down hallways, accompanied by a flicker of neon yellow in the corner of his vision whenever he turns around, darting away before he can register who (or _what_ ) is observing him. It’s not just the hallways, either; whenever Leon looks at the ceiling when daydreaming in class or trying to sleep in his room, at least one cameraalways seems to be tiltedin his direction, something he’s pretty darn sure that wasn’t happening three weeks ago.

For a while, he tries to tell himself that his gut feeling is wrong – but then Leon discovers that by calling out “Oi!” or “Hey!” in a crowded hallway, the baseball player can instantly cause a commotion behind him, as his follower decides to make a hasty retreat. It’s a lot harder to think it’s just paranoia knowing that, even if it _is_ a funny way to stop Ishimaru from rushing over and giving him a detention for not showing up to baseball training (as if he needs training). 

He’s _almost_ sure it’s a fangirl of his – he has a fair number, after all – but he’s not entirely sure, and that’s starting to make him nervous. Whoever or whatever is watching him is clearly a complete coward, but what do they want, exactly? It’s not like he really cares, he reassures himself, and he’s probably more annoyed than worried – but he can’t deny glancing around a bit whenever he’s on his own in a hallway, just in case someone jumps out and tries to attack him or kidnap him or something.

It’s a whim that takes him, three weeks into that ‘watched’ sort of thing; tilting his head to one side, he begins to write a message to his watcher in large, scrawling, capital letters.

_Kazuichi Souda, for the record, doesn’t know a thing about it._

“Anything new?” his accomplice asks, curiously lifting his head from _The Collected Exploits of Biggles, Wonder Pilot Dog_ as Souda enters their shared room with shoulders slumped and head hanging.

“Nah. He didn’t even _do_ anything today, not outside of class anyway, and yet I counted three new chicks.”

“Isn’t that _something_ new?”, Makoto Naegi muses, returning his attention to Biggle’s frivolity even as Souda goes storming straight past him, shaking his head furiously as he rants:

“Of course not! The whole point isn’t to prove that he _does_ it, but to find out how he does it!” The mechanic looks desperately around the room, then races over to his study desk, sifting through stacks of blank papers; forgotten pieces of homework and ancient test marks Souda _wishes_ he could forget about.  “He must have been drawing occult symbols in his page margins or something... Hey, where did you put the remote?”

“It’s under your pillow”, Naegi replies, without looking up from the part where Biggles shoots down the Alsatian Commander’s Albatros D.IX with a stolen Aeronautica Umbra Trojani AUT.18.  “Komaeda would have found it if I hadn’t moved it...”

Souda freezes on the spot at that, eyes widening. “K–Komaeda? When did he come in here? He didn’t see anything, did he?”

“Eh... I think he came in here this morning? It was something about having to clean all the rooms, after drawing straws against Ishimaru and Hinata, and... Well, I guess he was lucky.” Naegi passes a hand across his eyes, rubbing at his temples for a long moment. “It’s just a good thing I was _luckier._ ”

“You sure sound confident”, Souda grumps, rummaging in his bedside drawers for a long cable, which he quickly runs between the enormous, old–fashioned television set he’s somehow crammed into their wardrobe, and the slender harddrive which holds today’s recording. “Your talent’s the same as his, y’know... Ahhh!” With a satisfied grunt, the mechanic settles down on the bed, pulls a notebook and pencil from his pocket, then points the remote at the screen.

“They _call_ it the same thing, but they think our lucks work differently. Komaeda gets really, really bad luck, then really, really good luck – but me, I just get lucky. Well, I kind of get _really_ lucky, but not really, _really_ lucky... Hey, are you even listening?”

“Mm–hmm”, Souda mumbles, staring fixatedly at the television with the end of his pencil in his mouth. “H–hey, look! That’s me! I’m on TV!” He absentmindedly begins to run his fingers through his hair, twisting and untwisting the single braid he wears. “Naegi, quick! Look at this! I got really close!”

Naegi sighs, tearing his eyes away from the airplane–dogfight–with–dogs–and–explosions to glance half–heartedly over at the monitor, currently displaying an overhead view of Kuwata, the tiny, spiderlike robot that carries the camera making little wet noises as it scuttles on suction–cupped legs across the hallway’s ceiling, following the baseballer’s journey down the hallways with Souda prowling along just behind. The mechanic leans as far off the bed as he can, pointing at a spot on the screen with his pencil. “Hey, do you think he’s writing something?”

“I don’t think so”, Naegi murmurs, returning to his book. He’d probably have been more optimistic or encouraging about things, if only Souda hadn’t been carrying on like this for three entire weeks, his every waking moment filled with trying to collect evidence that Kuwata was some sort of an occult leader. Never has he more regretted agreeing to be someone’s roommate than when he agreed to be Souda’s – sure, the boys from his own class aren’t the _nicest_ bunch, but they aren’t exactly partially insane, either. They don’t have crying fits at the smallest of things, or dye their hair bright pink, sharpen their teeth, and claim all that to be _natural_ , or insist on following some guy from Naegi’s class with homemade robots, under the belief that aforesaid guy is ‘a witch’. From what Naegi has heard and seen, the rest of Souda’s classmates make the mechanic look like the poster boy for mental health by comparison, but... _still_.

“Naegi! Naegi! That’s a star, right?” Souda yells for what feels like the thousandth time, and with a sigh the other boy drags himself away from Biggle’s adventure, placing it on his lap as he resigns himself to observing the far less glorious adventures of Leon Kuwata. The baseballer is now sitting in class, doodling on his papers and occasionally glancing up at the ceiling – more than he usually does, Naegi notes with a frown.

_Has he seen what Souda did to the cameras?_

Much as he feels that what Souda is doing is pretty stupid, Naegi doesn’t particularly want the mechanic to get caught in the act of spying on the baseball player. After all, at Hope’s Peak, the punishments are rumored to be much, much worse than a mere detention, and _especially_ when hall monitor Ishimaru is presiding over the choice of punishment. If Souda was to go through one of those, Naegi’s not so sure he’d come out still intact; Hope’s Peak might not want to hurt their precious kids, but then again... well, as they say, _accidents happen._ All it would take would be for one of the punishers to overestimate the mechanic – who, after all, does his best to look as cool and rebellious as possible – and who knows what might happen–

“Hey! This doodle!” Souda pauses the feed, disrupting Naegi’s train of thought. “What do you think it means?”

“It looks like a... a kitty face?”

“Oooh! A black cat, maybe?”

“Souda, it’s been drawn in _blue pen._ ”

“Maybe he just didn’t have a black one!” Souda defends, scribbling down god lone knows what sort of notes in his book.

“No, I’m pretty sure he’s got black pens. Look at his handwriting, that’s in black pen.”

The mechanic squints at the screen for a minute, before tearing out a page of his notebook with a soft groan, pressing a button on the remote to continue the video. “Man, you’re good at this... ehhh?”

Naegi blinks, then tilts his head. “He’s writing something big. And sideways...”

Souda tilts his head so far to the left that he nearly falls off the end of the bed. “Uh, lemme see. I... K...N...O...W...” He stops, straightening after a long silence. “N–no _way_.”

The other teenager sighs, then shrugs, staring emptily at the message on the screen.

_ I KNOW UR WATCHIN. _

 “Well, Kuwata isn’t an idiot.”

  _Even if he can’t really spell that well..._

“Wh–what are we going to do _now?_ ” Souda wails, and it’s all Naegi can do to not correct his ‘we’.

“I guess you’re going to have to tell him you were watching him.”

 “I’m not _watching_ Kuwata! Just monitoring him!” The mechanic clenches his hands into fists, and shakes one at the screen “L–look, we’ve _been_ over this! Ever since I brought that screen in here, I had to tell you what I was doing with it. So, yeah – I’m _monitoring_ him, in order to determine how he’s getting all those girls! At some point, he’s going to have to demonstrate his occult techniques, and show how me he’s attracting chicks!”

“Maybe you should just ask him to show you.”

Souda growls and turns off the television with a click of the remote, much like he has done the last six times Naegi has suggested this. “How _can_ I?”

The other boy spreads his fingers wide and shrugs. “Look. Kuwata’s a nice guy, okay? And he obviously hasn’t gone to the principal about this yet, or–”

“Nice? _Nice?!?_ ” the mechanic growls, looking absolutely furious at the mere thought that Leon could be nice, baring his sharp teeth – though Naegi can’t help but notice the unshed tears in his eyes, and feel an odd sort of pity for him. “L–Leon’s not _nice!_ He’s an evil scumbag who’s taking my girls!” He harrumphs, folding his arms across his chest and looking away. “I–If it wasn’t for him... maybe girls would like me. Maybe _people_ would like me... I’m nice, but they like _him_ instead...” The mechanic looks back at Naegi for a long moment, searching his face for some sort of emotion; the other boy keeps up a blank expression in reply. Souda’s the type of person who doesn’t want pity, doesn’t _need_ pity, and that’s one thing his roommate knows full well.

“Have you ever seen him being mean to someone else?” he asks after a long moment, half–dreading the answer he’s going to get. When Souda’s this distraught, it’s _possible_ that he might actually lie, even if it’s not the most likely thing to happen.

“Well... N–no...” The pink–haired teenager turns his back on Naegi with a soft sniffle, and the other boy feels absolutely horrible for having made him feel bad. “B–but he’s a witch, right? Or an incubus. One or the other... They’re both really nasty. Leon’s evil. Not _nice._ ”

“No, you’ve got that wrong... I mean, you can’t really say that without any evidence.” Naegi touches his top lip with a finger, deciding to ignore the fact that Souda’s just called Kuwata by a more personal name twice now, and instead tries to look as thoughtfully as he can at the ceiling whenever Souda glances at him. “There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there...?”

_Makoto Naegi wishes that Souda would just ask Kuwata how he’s grabbing all the girls already._

Seriously, it’s starting to really take its toll on Naegi now, and he can’t say it’s enjoyable. After all, it took him a good two hours of coaxing just to _get_ Souda to the cafeteria, and then a further fifteen minutes for the baseball player to actually show up to dinner, late as usual. Keeping an eye on Kuwata and trying to herd a gibbering wreck of a mechanic over to him at the same time isn’t easy, and the reluctant roommate nearly loses his nerve more than once during the epic–level trek across the cafeteria that would have impressed Biggles, Wonder Pilot Dog in terms of sheer difficulty.

“It’s all right” he whispers, just ten metres from the target now and closing fast, hustling his companion closer. “Hey, Kuwata!”

Kuwata turns, and instantly Souda pales, squirming in Naegi’s grip. “H–hey, is it okay if I changed my mind? I don’t _really_ want to talk to–”

“How’s it going, mate?” Kuwata grins, sauntering over to the two of them. “Oh! And who’s this?” He tilts his head, looking curiously at the mechanic currently attempting to hide behind his shorter roommate. “We haven’t met, have we?”

“Nope, definitely haven’t met. At all. Never seen you before in my life. Nope, nope, nope... aheheh...”

“Well then, I guess I should introduce myself! I’m Leon Kuwata, one of Naegi’s classmates!” He extends a hand towards Souda, and looks mildly confused when the mechanic jumps back from him, shaking and paling even more. “Uh... okay, then. So, what’s your name?”

“I–it’s... K–k–kazu...”

The rest of Souda’s sentence is lost in the noisy chatter of the school as his voice drops to a low mumble, and Naegi wisely decides to finish it for him. “This is Kazuichi Souda.”

“That’s an interesting name. So, whaddaya do, Souda? I wanna be a rockstar, but my talent’s _baseball_.” He sticks out his tongue in disgust before continuing. “Boring, right?”

“I... I... Uh, I’m a mechanic. I... y’know.”

“Oh! Cool!” Kuwata grins, producing something small and shiny from his pocket. “So, I guess you can tell where _this_ came from, right?”

Naegi’s jaw drops; for right there, in the baseballer’s hand, is the little ceiling robot Souda insisted on leaving in the cafeteria when they first arrived. It kicks feebly in Kuwata’s grip, suction caps flailing around, and the redhead grins. “Pretty cool stuff, isn’t it?”

“O–of course it is! My robots aren’t anything less!” Souda growls, snatching away his precious chunk of metal and cradling it, straightening its little legs as Kuwata looks on curiously.

“So, it’s yours?”

“Wh–when did I ever say...” The mechanic trails off, reddening in embarrassment, and the baseballer grins broadly; his grin being infectious enough to make Naegi smile without really meaning to, even make Souda’s lip twitch a little. Kuwata catches the slight movement, and immediately takes it as a cue to put his hand on the pink–haired teen’s precious robot, seemingly unaware that the latter has frozen at the contact, and is blushing hard.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s really well made... I had to throw my napkin–ball pretty damn hard to get at it, after all.”

With a growl, the mechanic shakes off the baseballer, pulling down at his beanie with his free hand as his eyes become dangerously watery. Naegi instantly takes several steps back from the possible hissy–fit about to go off, taking one more for good measure as Souda begins to wail: “Y–you can’t prove anything! An– an’ if you’re trying to flatter me, it’s not gonna work! You’ve got no proof... No proof at all, y’hear?”

“Huh? What am I trying to prove again?” At those words, the pink–haired boy sniffles loudly; and Kuwata blinks, stepping back from Souda’s little display of teenage angst with an expression that’s all concern. “Hey, hey... Relax, you’re not in court. I don’t bite.”

For a split second, Naegi fears that the mechanic’s going to break into an uncontrollable crying fit right then and there in the cafeteria – but then something about what Kuwata said catches Souda’s attention instead. Instead of sobbing, the pink–haired boy looks up at the baseballer, scrutinizing him as though trying to figure out whether or not he’s a monster about to eat him for lunch, or a monster about to become his best friend forever (if such a thing is even possible), before he finally speaks, voice high and shaky.

“S–so... Y–y–you’re a w–witch, then?”

Naegi could have facepalmed – but the situation’s at the point where if he were to make any sudden moves, Souda would break down, and that’s not good. All he can do is watch, almost helplessly, as Kuwata balks a little at the sudden question, shaking his head with a confused smile on his face. “Uh, no. What made you think that?”

“B–but... But, if you’re not an incubus... _or_ a witch.... How do you get all the girls?”

Kuwata sighs, reaching out to touch the mechanic’s shoulder. “I... To be honest, I don’t know. It’s not like I’m _trying_ to get them, y’know? I don’t even want them. Kinda like baseball, I guess...” He grins. “Wait, was _that_ all you were following me f–”

“Ehhh? Y–you’re not into them? You _don’t_ want to take them apart with a screwdriver?” Souda stammers nervously, reddening when he realizes that Kuwata’s still got his hand on his shoulder; and suddenly, Naegi feels like he’s about to see something he really shouldn’t see. The mechanic’s roommate shifts from foot to foot in the awkward silence, as the baseballer presumably attempts to comprehend the idea of Souda wanting to take apart girls with a screwdriver.

Eventually, Kuwata laughs – a little awkwardly, but he still laughs, unbelievably enough – and pulls Souda into tight hug. “No, I guess I’m not into them. But then again...” He grins cheekily, drawing back from the mechanic back to stare into his eyes. “I don’t think a guy who spends three weeks of his time looking at another guy is exactly _straight_ , if you catch my drift...?”

Naegi can’t believe how smooth the baseballer is in that moment – the choice is certainly there, and the hug is fairly loose. The mechanic could technically pull away at any moment, or settle into the hug himself – which is what he chooses to do with a series of low sobs, robot held tightly to his chest, unbelievably enough for a guy who has previously claimed to have been straight beyond straight. “Gah... Y–you’re just so _nice!_ ”

Kuwata glances over at Naegi, as the mechanic at last breaks down in his arms, burying his face in his shoulders – and just for a moment, _both_ of the embracing boys look pretty darned helpless.

 _Is ‘nice’ good?_ , the baseballer mouths.

In reply, Naegi gives him a thumbs up.

**END**


End file.
